Possession
by Space Toaster
Summary: Jerusha once was a believer. Through her eyes, we learn of her life, her loss of faith, and most of all, her marriage to Malachi. Takes place two years after the massacre. Please review!
1. Prologue

Possession  
By Sarah Bross

Prologue

I don't know why he picked me. We hardly knew each other, not before the massacre, when I was Lynn and he was Jason. Not even afterward, when I became Jerusha and he became Malachi, did we become acquaintances.

And yet, there I stood in the clearing, facing him. We both wore circlets from corn husks and Isaac stood there, just talking. He was a great leader…but, goodness, does he ever stop talking? Malachi stared down at me, looking absolutely ridiculous with a halo of corn husks on over his carrot red hair. Isaac handed him a knife, and Malachi made a shallow cut across his palm. The knife was handed to me. I winced, but I did the same. Isaac took the knife away from me, and took each of our wrists, and pressing our hands together so that the fingers laced. The beads of blood seeping from our palms met with a tiny squelch.

"Blood to blood, you are now one." Isaac intoned, stepping back. And that was the day that I became the bride of Malachi. I was to eventually bear his child and keep up our population. I didn't expect anything special from this so-called relationship…

But that was before I fell in love.


	2. Why Me?

Possession

By Sarah Bross

Chapter 1: Why Me?

I walked home with Malachi to his house, the ceremony was over. We didn't wear the circlets and the cuts on our palms were bandaged. It the most awkward silence of my life, at least for me. I kept sneaking glances at him, then looking away quickly when I saw he was looking at me. I hated it…but did I hate him? I don't know if I did, I don't think he ever gave me a reason to. Did he hate me? Well, that's a stupid question, I thought. If he hated me, why would he pick me? There was only one way to find out…

"…Malachi?" His name sounded strange, especially when I said it with my throaty voice that I hated intensely.

"What?"

His voice made me flinch, and I still didn't look at him.

"Why me?"

I heard his footsteps come to a halt. I stopped too and turned to face him. He was taller than me, but not so much that I would be afraid of him.

"I know who I hate." He reached out and touched the back of his hand to my cheek. His fingers were cold. "And I don't hate you."

I nodded, understanding what he meant to say. We didn't know each other, but he'd rather be with someone he didn't know than someone he knew and didn't like. We just stood like that for a moment, staring at each other. His knuckles slowly stroked down the side of my cheek before leaving my face. I found it weird to be treated so gently by Malachi, of all people. He always seemed so…harsh. He turned again and patted my shoulder.

"Come on."

We walked to his house without another word. Malachi had been given the privilege of having his own house, being Isaac's second in command. I think it might have even been the house he lived in back when he was Jason. I was thinking about it when I was laying there in bed, watching the tall redhead dozing next to me. Malachi…my husband. It sounded weird, but I would have to get used to it.

The next morning when I woke up he was gone. I heard that some of the guys usually got up early to patrol and check for intruders and stuff…but no one came to Gatlin, not since the cleansing. Who would care about this pathetic town, anyway? I was sure that soon, whatever knowledge Nebraska had of Gatlin would be lost. And this cult would just fester in this skeleton of a town, lost in time and forgotten by history. I looked out the window. You can't even see anything beyond the corn. Miles and miles of stalks and ears…the home of He Who Walks Behind The Rows. Where IS behind the rows? Is it even a real place? Is it where we go when we turn nineteen and go to Him? I shook my head and got dressed. A carrot was my breakfast as I walked out the door, intending to find something to do. I was sure there would be. When we weren't worshipping He Who Walks, we mostly focused on survival, and survival meant work. Today I took upon the task of collecting sticks and twigs, for the winter when we needed kindling. I had a good pile going when I heard a familiar voice.

"'Morning, Jerusha."

I looked up at Malachi just as I snapped a long branch over my thigh. I tossed the halves onto the pile and dusted my hands off.

"Hi." I bent down to tie the sticks into a bundle using some string I brought with me. He just stood there, watching me. I picked up the bundle, turning and heading to the barn to add to the large pile of wood behind it. Malachi followed me, not speaking. I dropped the sticks onto the pile and pulled the tarp back down. I felt a twinge of pain and saw I had a splinter in my index finger.

"Great." I muttered, picking it with my nails. It hurt a lot for a tiny piece of wood, and when I finally got it out my finger bled. Suddenly Malachi took my hand by the wrist. He was so quiet I almost forgot he was standing there. He stared at the little bead of blood before licking my fingertip. I stared up at him in morbid fascination, shivering as he sucked on the tip of my finger. His eyes bore into mine and I bit my lip. After what seemed like an eternity he let my hand go, and rested a hand on the back of my neck. I shuddered, his fingers were still cold. His stare flickered from my eyes to my lips for a moment, but he looked at my eyes again. He wouldn't kiss me, and I was kind of relieved. It was too soon.

"I'll see you later, at the meeting." He finally said, before stalking off, back to whatever he was doing. I watched him go, now really, really confused. I thought I understood him now. I sighed and sat down in the grass, face in my hands. The strangest thing about this whole thing, was that I was eventually going to have to carry his baby. I'm only fifteen…I doubt I'm ready to be a mom… I sighed and laid back in the grace, staring up at the sky. It felt like I was there for a long time before Isaac suddenly appeared in my line of vision.

"Good afternoon, Jerusha."

I sat up ramrod straight, feeling my face flush. I didn't know why I was so embarrassed.

"Um, good afternoon, Isaac…beautiful day, isn't it?" I stood up, trying to not look like I was nervous. Isaac was about the most intimidating five-foot-nothing I ever met. I stood up. It was actually kind of funny, that I was a good five inches taller and yet he still made me nervous.

"Yes, it is." He answered with a polite bob of his head. "What were you doing on the ground?"

"Oh…just, thinking, that's all…" I wanted to slap myself repeatedly then, because I sounded like such an idiot.

"Hm. About what, if I may ask?" Isaac asked. He seemed pleasant, but you know what they say – 'I fear the Greeks even when bearing gifts.'

"Nothing important…just about today." I shrugged, hoping he would buy it and leave me alone.

"Have you and Malachi attempted at a child?" He asked suddenly. This definitely caught me off-guard. He was joking, wasn't he? He just joined the two of us last night! Then again, he probably didn't know of where I stood with Malachi.

"No, not yet." I shook my head. "…Malachi and I don't know each other very well, and we decided we would learn more about each other before."

We actually didn't, but, that was the impression that I got from Malachi. Isaac raised an eyebrow, but didn't say ask any questions. I was relieved.

"I wouldn't take too long about it. You both know that our numbers are dwindling." Isaac reached up suddenly, and pulled out a dead leaf that had been in my hair the whole time.

I nodded, chewing on my lip.

"I know..."

Isaac let the leaf float to the ground as he turned to leave.

"Well, I have some business to attend to. I will see you later at the meeting."

"Okay…" Now I really wanted to slap myself. I sounded ever stupider! But then again, why should I care what Isaac thinks of my intelligence. I shook my head and walked in the opposite direction of Isaac, to find something else to do with myself. After a couple hours of wandering around doing a few odd jobs, I ended up sitting on the porch of Malachi's house by myself. I tended to distance myself from the other children. I was the odd one out even before we took over, often sitting in the back of the clearing, away from the others. It didn't bother them, and it didn't bother me. That was the way it worked.

I stood up and walked around on the small porch of the house. My own house had a porch swing. I missed my house…but it was in what I called the Forbidden, a section of houses that weren't occupied because they were too far away from the cornfield. I wanted to go back, just once and see it again. But I knew that if I did, I would only want my old life back even more. What hurt the most about that feeling was the fact that I could never have it back. Not after what I did to my parents, not after what I helped the other children do. I sat on the porch steps again, blinking back tears. I heard footsteps and a creak of wood as someone sat down.

"You know, it's better to just let it out then hold it all in." A soft voice spoke in front of me.

I took my hands from my eyes to see Zipporah sitting on the bottom step. She half-smiled at me, it was probably the biggest smile she could manage. She looked awful and sick, as usual. Dark circles under her eyes, ashy skin, sunken cheeks…Rachel told me that she's been having nightmares ever since the cleansing. I hardly remember what she looked like before. I do know her name used to be Marjorie. 

"What?"

"I said, it's better to just let it out then hold it all in." She repeated herself, absently running a hand through her thick black hair. It used to be down to her waist, and she wore it in a braid all the time like I did. She used to be my neighbor; I remember seeing her mother braid her hair on her porch…that would explain why she cut it.

When Isaac had us burn all our possessions along with the televisions and radios, Zipporah was the last to arrive. We could all tell she had been crying, but that's not what we stared at. Her hair had been chopped so short it didn't even touch her shoulders. She walked over with the box of her things, and threw all the objects inside one by one. And then, she took out the last object before she threw the cardboard box into the flames. It was her hair, held together by a ribbon. I understood now…it was something that she had shared with her mother, and she knew that if she kept it, it would haunt me. She closed her eyes as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks and threw it onto the fire. I can still smell the burning hair.

And now here she sat, sickly, remorseful, and haunted. She had lost her faith long before I would. I moved down so I would sit next to her on the bottom step.

"I guess you're right." I shrugged.

"I'm sure I am." She answered. "You hold it back, and you only end up crying harder. Trust me."

She stood up, dusting herself off.

"They'll start gathering in the clearing soon. I should go."

I stood up, and linked her arm with mine.

"We'll go together."

She managed that crooked smile again and we started off for the cornfield, arm in arm.


	3. In The House That I Grew Up In

Possession  
By Sarah B

Chapter 2  
In The House That I Grew Up In

Zipporah and I sat side by side in the clearing, listening to Isaac blather on and on. Normally, I could listen to his sermons, because despite my dislike for him, he had a way with words. But today, they just didn't stick. My mind kept wandering off, and it would take me a minute to realize that Isaac was still talking. I saw Malachi at the other side of the clearing, and he happened to look at me at the same time I did. We stared at each other, until Isaac happened to walk between our lines of vision and severing our eye contact. Good, I thought, looking away. That was awkward.

I looked at Zipporah. She sat with her arms folded tightly across his stomach, hunched over. She watched Isaac, following him with her eyes, but I could tell her mind was somewhere else. Isaac walked past us. He rested his hand on top of Zipporah's head, who flinched visibly.

"And the Lord said to me, 'A child shall lead them.'"

"Praise God! Praise the Lord!" The children all intoned, all except me and Zipporah. She was shaking, Isaac's hand still resting on her head. He looked down at her. He was younger than her and yet he had her paralyzed. He took her chin in his hand and tilted her face up. He stared at her, and she stared back with eyes that now looked kind of cloudy and unfocused. Saying nothing, he let her go, and moved on.

"You may go." He said, turning to the others. He regarded Zipporah a little longer, before walking away, seemingly in thought. I put a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded, slowly.

"Yeah, just a little tired…" She answered, staggering slightly as she got to her feet. I frowned, noticing she seemed kind of unsteady as she walked out. I heard a footstep behind me.

"Hey."

I looked to see Malachi offering me a hand up. I took it and pulled myself to my feet. He didn't say anything as we walked from the clearing. We ended up seated on the porch of his house, still in awkward silence. How were we going to know each other if neither of us was going to talk? I cleared my throat before speaking.

"So…was this your original house?"

"Yeah. Where's yours?" He asked, getting up from his chair and moving to sit next to me on the top step.

"The Forbiddens."

"What?" Malachi looked at me oddly, and I laughed a little.

"You know those couple of streets we're not allowed to live on, because they're too far away from the cornfield and church and stuff? I call them the Forbiddens." I explained, a little embarrassed.

"And your house is there?"

"Yes." I nodded, tossing my braid over my shoulder.

Malachi stood up and held out his hand out to pull me up again.

"Show me."

I blinked, not sure that I heard him right.

"What?"

"I want to see your house."

"But, we're not allowed to go there…" I sat rooted to that porch like an idiot.

"Do you think I do everything Isaac says? Come on, show me where it is." His hand still held out to me.

For the first time in a while, I smiled and took his hand. He pulled me up and we ran down the streets towards the Forbiddens, my hand grasping his. My street had a lot of trees, and it was very shady. All the better to not get caught. I lead Malachi up the steps to my own porch, where the swing still sat. I twisted the knob and the door opened with a hollow creak. I led him inside, walking slowly as I began to remember it all. All the memories that came back as I walked down that front hall… I stopped at a table and picked up a framed photograph. It was so dusty that I couldn't see the picture. I swiped across it with my thumb, only to see a pair of eyes staring at me. I wiped the rest of the dust off, and saw it was a picture of my mom, holding a two year-old baby. Me… I felt my eyes welling up as Malachi came up behind me, looking over my shoulder.

"Who's that?"

I didn't answer him, I just hugged the picture to my chest and bowed my head. Zipporah's soft voice echoed in my head.

"_It's better to just let it out then hold it all in…"_

"Jerusha…?" Malachi rested a hand on my shoulder.

"It's my mom." My voice cracked, and I winced because I sounded like a toad.

I put the picture back on the table, face down. She was gone, and I would never see her again. I dried my eyes and took Malachi's hand.

"Come on, I'll show you my room." I said, leading him up the stairs and down the hallway. At the end of the hall there was a door. My old room. I opened it and led Malachi up the little staircase.

"You slept in the attic?" Malachi seemed almost amused, looking around.

It was pretty empty now except for my furniture; I'd burned my books, old toys and records like everyone else. All that remained of the bed was a frame, and the desk, chair and dresser were coated with a generous layer of dust. But it was my room…it used to be. My favorite part though, was the little window seat that I would sit on, watching everyone below me, walking around like ants. I sat down on it, resting my hand on the sun faded cushion.

"This was where I came to think…" I said, almost to myself.

Malachi sat next to me at that window, and rested a hand on my shoulder. I looked at him, and smiled. I hadn't smiled in a long, long time. Malachi half-smiled back, taking my chin in his hand.

"You're really interesting, you know that?" He asked, his gaze going from my eyes to my lips, from my eyes, to my lips again.

"I do now that you told me." I answered, our faces getting closer and closer.

Too close. My eyes shut on instinct. Our chapped lips touched. Our first kiss. I hated this place and everything in it, and for one brief shining moment, I wasn't there. He broke it off, and I was back in Gatlin.

"We should start back now…someone might notice we're gone."

I nodded, and we walked out of the attic, down all the stairs and out the door. We ran back to his house, stopping on the porch to catch our breath. It was getting dark now, we didn't think anyone had seen us. That was before Isaac opened the screen door and walked out of Malachi's house.

"Good evening." He didn't look OR sound amused at all.

Only two words ran through my mind.

_"Oh…shit…"_


	4. Paying the Price

Possession   
By Sarah B

Chapter 3

Paying the Price

Malachi and I now sat in the church basement, in the shrine room. Isaac was mid-rant and I could tell Malachi was getting more pissed by the minute. I was mad too, I mean, Isaac didn't even explain why they're forbidden. I guess every religion has its pointless rules…

"And I thought of the two of you as good Children…You both know that those houses are forbidden!" Isaac snapped. "He is greatly displeased with you!"   
_  
"Who, your imaginary friend?"_ I wanted to say, but I bit the inside of my cheek.

"This will not be met without consequences. Jerusha, you are to stay here tonight and clean the church top to bottom, except for the basement. I want it spotless, and afterwards you will report back here, do you understand?"

"Yes, Isaac." I tried my hardest not to sound angry.

"Good. Then you may go and get started." He waved me off, pacing across the room.

I stood and looked from Malachi, and then to Isaac.

"What about Malachi?" I asked.

Isaac whirled around to face me, and I flinched. He was clearly annoyed with me, and Isaac is not a pretty sight when he's mad.

"That's not your concern. Go. Unless you'd rather I'd be less lenient and administer a worse punishment."

I turned around quickly so Isaac couldn't see the scowl on my face and stomped out of the room. I closed the door behind me, and for a moment pressed my ear to the door, to see if I could hear them through the thick wood. Nothing but muffled voices. Frustrated, I made my way over to the closet where the cleaning supplies were. I can see why Isaac punished me with cleaning duties, this church was a real pig sty. We didn't use it often, just for eighteenth birthdays and meetings when it rained.

An hour later I was done with the pews and was working on the windows. I was surprised when Malachi finally walked out; I forgot he was even in there. He walked over, and just stood there, watching me scrub. I stopped and glanced at him.

"I don't want to talk about it." He cut me off before I could even open my mouth.

I nodded, and watched him walk out of the church, hands in his pockets. Sigh. I kept scrubbing. Once I was finished with the windows, I picked up the bucket of dirty water and went to dump it outside.

"You've done good so far."

Zipporah's voice caught me by surprise and I nearly dropped the bucket. I looked to see Zipporah seated on the armrest of one of the pews. She looked at the floor, then up at me with those gray puppy eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's fine, I was in La-La Land anyway."

I dumped the bucket out and went to the closet to find the broom. Zipporah followed me, her boots hardly made a sound, which explains why I didn't notice her come in and sit down. She wasn't saying anything, so I took it upon myself to say something.

"…Everyone usually goes to bed at this time. Aren't you tired?" I winced, just now remembering why she didn't sleep.

"I haven't slept in a week, I don't think tonight will be any different." There was a noticeably dry tone to her voice.

"…What are the nightmares like, if you don't mind me asking?"

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before slowly opened them again. I found the broom and walked back out into the main room, she followed me. I pushed aside the pile of Bibles and hymnals, clearing the floor so I could sweep.

"Most of the time, I have the same dream. I see the adults." Zipporah finally answered. "Reverend Case, my mom, my dad, Mr. Hansen, Mr. and Mrs. Chroner…and they were all undead, and angry. I'm still holding a bloody weapon in my hand, and they crawl after me, asking me why. My hair is always long again in my dreams, and they always rip it out."

She closed her eyes again. "And then a hand, holding a knife, cuts my throat and I watch myself bleed. Most of the time I wake up crying. I even scream sometimes."

I had frozen where I stood, listening to all this. No wonder she always looked like something from Night of the Living Dead. She sat down on the pew, her feet dangled an inch off the floor.

"And sometimes…I see things while I'm awake. Things about Gatlin, that haven't happened…but maybe they will."

"You mean a vision?" I suggested.

"SSH!" She looked around, like we were being watched, and got up, taking my hand. "Listen, Jerusha. You're the only person I've told, about what I see. Rachel doesn't know, Malachi doesn't know, not even Isaac knows. Please, don't tell them _anything_. I don't want to think about what Isaac will do."

I squeezed her hand. "I promise, I won't. I've never given away a secret in my life, especially not an important one."

Zipporah gave a small, relieved smile and patted my hand.

"Thank you."

We heard distant footsteps and a door downstairs opening. I mouthed 'Isaac' to Zipporah and she let go of my hand, bolting down the center aisle. Isaac came in just as she reached the door. She turned, and their eyes locked. She bit her lip, pushed the door open and ran out into the night. I finished clearing the floor and started sweeping. Isaac stood there, staring at the door Zipporah just ran out of.

"She fears me…" He finally said, not sounding disappointed or annoyed, but intrigued…

I didn't say anything and focused on my sweeping. Isaac stood there for a moment longer before going back into the basement. Why he came out in the first place, I don't know. It was around 1 AM when I finally finished the aisles and around and under the pews. I was really sore as I lugged the broom and dustpan back to the closet and headed down to the basement. I knocked on the door and Isaac opened it. I didn't speak; I just jerked my thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the stairs, indicating I completed my punishment.

"You've finished?"

I nodded, resisting my urges to wrap my aching hands around his scrawny little neck.

"Fine, you may go." He shut the door on me.

It was really dark outside if not for the moonlight. I was surprised I made it back to Malachi's house without walking into one of the now defunct streetlights or telephone poles. I tiptoed inside, wincing as the stairs creaked under my weight. I walked into Malachi's room…our room, and tiptoed around so not to disturb the lump under the covers on the left side of the bed. I just took off my socks and shoes and just laid down on top of the covers. Malachi turned over onto his side to face me, still awake.

"Took you long enough." He smirked, and I stuck my tongue out at him

"Oh, shush. It might interest you to know that the church is now sanitary. I just hope Isaac wasn't expecting me to clean rats out of the organ." I joked, crawling under the quilt, sitting up to untie my braid.

Malachi chuckled, sitting up and reaching behind me. He pushed my hair to one side over my left shoulder. I jumped slightly when he pressed his nose against the back of my head, smelling my hair. His calloused hands ran down my shoulders and to my waist. His arms ensnared my middle and pulled me to him, pressing my back against his chest. I turned around in his grip and put my hands on either side of his face, staring into it.

"Ready?" He asked me.

"Are you?"

He was silent, kissing me once before answering.

"To be honest, no."

"Neither am I."

And yet, it happened anyway. We laid there afterward, staring at the ceiling, both of us probably wondering what the hell just happened.

"…Malachi?"

"Yeah?"

"Why? We've only been married one day…"

"…Let's just get some sleep." He answered brusquely, rolling onto his side, facing away from me.

I was glad, because then he didn't have to watch me cry.


End file.
